


A Fate Unchanged

by MonsieurMadeleine



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Death, Murder, Resurrection, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 04:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16780024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsieurMadeleine/pseuds/MonsieurMadeleine
Summary: Michael has never been a "normal" boy. But when it comes to a confrontation and he runs away, fate seems to change. But Satan isn't the kind of man that gives up easily. No other is to be selected to become the Antichrist. Michael Langdon is the Antichrist, and that he shall remain.





	A Fate Unchanged

'Please…’, the priest whispers, eyes nearly bulging in fear. One last time the man’s hand goes for his cross, the man’s tongue twisting in an attempt at prayer. In Latin, of course. I watch as he tries to hold on to that miserable imitation of life he had known for God-knows-how-long.

Frustration gets the better of me, and then it happens: an invisible force slashes the grey-haired man’s throat. He reminds me of many nannies that preceded him suffering this fate.

Then comes the remorse. Grandma is not going to like this; she’ll be angry at me. Yes, I am still her sweet little boy, but still. She is going to be angry when she sees this.

But he deserved this. He kept going on about God and the cleansing of souls and what not. His continuous Latin nonsense damaged my ears awfully. If the only way to shut him up was murder – it had been the case with the nannies as well – so be it. My limit had been reached. A limit he refused to respect.

With a smile on my face I grab a game and I start playing. I do quite well until grandma comes in, a mix of many emotions upon her face. She walks up to me and snatches the controller from my hands.

‘Tell me something, Michael’, she demands. ‘Do you have to kill every single living creature that crosses your path? Could you maybe just maim one? Or how about this for an idea: if they are causing you distress why don’t you just politely ask them to leave?’ In frustration she throws the controller aside, causing me to flinch in slight panic.

‘He kept shoving his cross in my face and speaking Latin!’ I try to defend myself, adjusting myself to sit more comfortable. ‘The words were burning my ears.’

‘I know that I am far from perfect’, the blonde lady acknowledged. ‘And I know that I have had my fair share of failures, raising children. But I am done taking blame for the horror and misery that you keep bringing in this house.’

‘I’m sorry!’ I stutter. I do get up now. ‘I-I won’t do it again, I promise. I-I don’t know why I keep doing what I’m doing. I-I need help.’ I try an innocent smile. ‘I am just a child’, I eventually try.

‘You are not a child!’ she snaps. ‘My grandson is a child! I see his eyes in your eyes and I hear a remnant of his sweet voice in your throat, but aren’t him!’ She rushes forward, her hand on my throat forcing me back down. ‘You may have somehow claimed his bed, but you aren’t him!’ Her voice reaches heights I never expected it to.

‘Please don’t be mad’, I plead softly.

‘You have made a fool of me all the time, treating me like the help. All the buried rodents and murdered nannies…! And I went along with it, thinking it was just a phase that you were going through. But this is not a phase. This is who you are! And it’s only going to get worse! But I swear to God it is not going to happen is my house.’

Grandma walks up to my closet and grabs my jacket.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask, confused and scared.

‘Get out!’ she shouts, slamming my jacket into my arms angrily. ‘Get out. I don’t care where you go. You can sleep on a park bench or under an overpass, I don’t care!’

‘Please don’t be mad.’ I throw myself at the blonde woman’s feet, hugging her legs. ‘Please. I’ll change, I promise.’

‘I don’t want you!’ I am pushed off, thrown unto the concrete. ‘Get out! Get out! Don’t you ever come back!’

There the dark force in me arises once more. I get up and grab grandma’s throat, only my hands truly agreeing with the act. But I can’t get myself to actually finish the job this time. No matter how fiercely the demon within me tries, the rest refuses to finish the job.

‘Go ahead, do it’, I hear her rasp. ‘Put me out of my misery.’ She sniffles.

I win the fight within and my grip loosens. Only to tighten again just before she attempts to speak once more. And so I manage to hold off her hurtful words just a bit longer. But it doesn’t last.

‘But you won’t, would you?’ A slap to my cheek. ‘Because you’re a coward. Deep down inside you know it!’ I am pushed off once more.

Taunted by mixed emotions, I flee the scene.

My tears have dried once I walk through the front door, and only then I notice I am barefoot. But honestly, I don’t care.

My pace quickens a bit as I approach the road, only to slow down for just a second to allow myself one last glance at my home. Then I register a huge impact upon my body and a voice expressing pain. Then I find myself down upon the asphalt, weak and in pain.

I stare at the car that just hit me, and I try to remember whose car it is, only to realize I don’t know. Something in me tells me this wasn’t a coincidence. Would grandma seriously try to have me killed? No, of course she wouldn’t.

The brunette in the car adjusts the mirror, glances at me once, then approaches again. Another impact upon my body when I am hit once more. I am rolled over in the process.

When presented with an opportunity, I try to catch a glimpse of the lady behind the wheel. She is pretty, I immediately conclude. But then she turns her head, locking gazes with grandma.

Although her shocked expression comforts me to some extent – it reassures me that she hadn’t planned this – something else spawns awful sadness. She doesn’t attempt in any manner to stop the brunette when she approaches me a third time.

I don’t know whether not even feeling the impact anymore is a good sign or not. This has been the last time, I know by the disappearance of the car.

Finally grandma comes to me, placing my upper body upon her lap, brushing hair from my face. She looks down at me silently.

‘I’m scared…’ I wheeze. ‘Take… Take me to the h-house…’ My gaze shifts to the house, dubbed the Murder House. Tears fill my eyes as blood fills my mouth. I swallow audibly. ‘Then I can be with you… forever… Please…’ For once I feel true remorse, more even than minutes ago with the priest’s corpse before me.

She allows her gaze to travel to the house, and then back to me. I stare at her expectantly. But then her gaze changes, her face somehow changes. ‘Go to hell’, she plainly dismisses my last request. She puts me down, rises off the concrete and stares at me for several seconds before simply walking off.

In silence I remain on the road, unable to move myself, unable to call for help.

Grandma left me for dead… Only now I truly realize what she has done. She told me to go to hell. And soon I shall involuntarily obey that.

My vision starts to fade, but somehow I know things aren’t that bad. This is not the end…

_***_

My eyes open and my gaze shifts around myself. Nothing has changed, I quickly conclude. I haven’t been “away” for long. I simply know.

Something in me tells me that my being hasn’t remained in here, lying upon this bit of asphalt. My body may have remained here, but whatever is in me has made a journey to ensure my awakening.

Suddenly I “remember”. I remember a dark, well dressed figure. He speaks to me, claiming to be my father. My true father. I am the son of Satan, and Father will not allow me to fail. I am not to die like this.

My wounds have healed and I no longer feel pain. I only feel determination. I am to bring the end of times. I am to remake the world in Father’s image. For once I shall not disappoint. I shall make sure He’ll be proud of me. I shall make sure that He shall reign.

But that can’t be done alone, Father told me.

A plan forms within my head as I get up. I shall search for followers and convince them to stand by me. With the Sign Father has placed behind my ear I shall prove who sent me. Eventually the world shall end in blood and fire, with Father on the throne and me beside him. I can already imagine going to Father, telling him I finally succeeded.

_***_

_I walk up to Father, walking straight through the inferno. I bow before him, barely daring to raise my eyes to meet His._

_‘Father’, I say. ‘I have finally succeeded. The world has been remade in your image.’_

_'Yes, my beloved son’, he answers, moving towards me, caressing my face fondly. ‘Finally I reign over a world of blood and fire, created by my beautiful son.’_

_'Thank you…’ I whisper._

_***_

My physical body has reunited with my mental body, both returned to the street, facing Murder House. It’s time to say goodbye.

I quickly run up to the house, but the door won’t open. I eventually force the lock, making way too much noise in the process. Of course grandma responds. I hide and watch as she checks the doorstep. Eventually she simply moves away from the door.

Once she moves past the kitchen, I remain there. I grab a knife. No worries, grandma. I won’t let you suffer too long.

Seconds later I launch at her and cut her throat. Blood spills, but for once no remorse is felt when I see her drop to the floor. I put her upper body upon my lap, like she had done with me.

‘Michael’, she whispers, but she doesn’t move. She just remains with her limbs splayed, just like I had done. ‘Michael…’

‘Sh…’ I respond cruelly. I brush hair from her face, like she had done to me. ‘I know you are scared. Comfort yourself with the fact that you are in the house already. I won’t be able to remain with you, however. I have greater things to accomplish. Also; I won’t tell you to go to hell. Father wouldn’t want you there. He wouldn’t want the lady who left His son for dead in His Paradise, I reckon.’ One last connection forms between our gazes when I caress her face once more, and then I physically let her down.

Once on my feet I walk away, only now noticing the long hair draped over my shoulders. It’s my own, I notice. Father must have changed that.

Though something within tells me to look back just once, I don’t. My heart has been broken once by that woman when she left me for dead. And I won’t allow her that satisfaction once more. Even if it is the last one she gets.

I have greater things to accomplish.


End file.
